Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 13: Freedom

The first orgasm struck within two dozen strokes of Darren's cock, making me squeal as much in surprise as in pleasure. The second came so soon after that the two merged into one long convulsive spasm, beginning deep between my thighs and spreading outwards like the mushroom cloud from an atom bomb.

The breeding frenzy overwhelmed me as soon as my breath returned, wrapping my arms around his powerful, gym-strengthened shoulders and my legs round his thighs - thighs which seemed tireless as they drove his hips forwards and his shaft pistoned in and out of my body.

I wailed my wanton lust into the stale air of the room, begging him not to stop; to fuck me deeper, harder, faster. He obliged with a crude smile on his boyish face, the wet slapping sound of two bodies colliding joined by the loud creaking of the springs on a cheap bed.

If I had thought sex with Tony was the best I could get, it only served to show how inexperienced I really was. As Darren's thrusts grew faster and less controlled and his first climax approached I began to call his name in my frenzy, begging him to cum inside me, to fill me with his seed and, yes, even to make a baby in my married belly.

When his tension broke, his body went into spasm and his ejaculation began to fill my middle aged body with youthful semen, my surrender was complete. Raking his arms and shoulders with my fingers, grabbing his buttocks and pulling them hard into me; wrapping my skinny legs around his thighs to hold him in my body forever, I knew I would never be the same again.

It was simply incredible. Our first fuck had not lasted long but as I lay alongside him on the dirty sheets, my body full of his sperm it felt as if my life had been changed.

But the night had only just begun.

Until that evening, all my lovers had been my own age; I had forgotten how quickly a much younger man's body could recover after ejaculation and how long he could last in bed. The first sticky pool of Darren's semen could hardly have settled against my cervix before his cock had hardened again and his body was rising over mine.

My mind dulled by the combined effects of alcohol, lust and post-orgasmic daze, I lost count of the number of times that boy fucked my skinny, middle aged body that night. I remember being on all fours at one time, I remember the bitter taste of my own juices on his smooth head as I took it into my mouth. I remember him trying and failing to take my anal virginity - the sharp pain was enough to bring that memory back vividly.

I remember falling asleep on him, totally exhausted, his hard cock still being thrust into my sore, gaping pussy.

Poor Darren; at the end it must have felt like he was fucking a corpse.

***

It was the early Friday sun shining through his cheap, thin curtains that woke me the following morning. When I opened my eyes, saw the squalid surroundings, the muscular young man in bed next to me and realised just how foolish I had been, the shame began to wash over me.

To my surprise, there was guilt too. Although I was, as my husband had insisted, free as a bird and could sleep with anyone I wanted, I should still have let my brain drive my body not the other way round, as appeared to have happened.

I turned to the sleeping form on my left. The boy looked beautiful, I had to confess; toned, fit, strong, attractive and, it appeared, completely without scruples where married women were concerned.

But I couldn't put the blame on him; if anyone had precipitated the night's sexual athletics it was me. Darren had been pleasingly keen to have access to my body - that of a woman old enough to be his mother - but I could not in all honestly say that he had in any way been forced to seduce me.

And when we were in bed together it had been simply amazing. If I thought sex with Tony had been good, a night of copulation with a man half his age had opened my eyes wide and my thighs wider! I no longer wondered why Julie had let their apparently ill-matched relationship go on so long; the evidence was there in my stiff, aching and rather sore body.

Were all young men like this? I had forgotten just how much energy a man in his twenties could have!

I reached down between my legs; my lower belly and upper thighs were a sticky, smelly mess. Just how much semen could a young man produce? And how often? I ran my fingers along my sore slit and over my pubic mound.

Oh God! In my misery I hadn't shaved my pussy since my aborted date with Tony on Monday and there was a distinct covering of stubble over most of my vulva. My face burned with embarrassment. At least it hadn't have put my young lover off much, not if the state of my body was anything to go by.

I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, at the cobwebs and dust that filled the yellowing corners and at the peeling wallpaper over the curtain rail. There was a low smell of damp beneath the odour of unwashed clothes too. It really was a squalid place in which to have spent the night with a new lover but Darren's performance had dominating my senses so completely that at the time it hadn't mattered.

In daylight the next day, it all looked much less exciting. I wondered whether Julie had spent many nights in Darren's bed. It explained why he had moved into her family house. I wondered what my colleagues at work would think if they knew their boss had been fucked by a boy not much more than half her age in a bed that hadn't seen clean sheets for many weeks.

My colleagues! Oh shit! It was Friday and I had to go to work!

I looked at my watch. Seven thirty. Shit!

If I left straightaway there might just be time to get home, wash, change and get to work in time for the morning's first meeting. Going to my office with the smell of recent sex on my body was unthinkable so I rolled out of bed and began to pull on those pieces of clothing I could find amongst the chaos on the bedroom floor.

My body ached from Darren's over-energetic assault, my stubbly pussy was once more pink from overuse but I had to get out of there quickly. Darren's slow, regular breathing hardly faltered as I dressed. I was pleased; the last thing I wanted was a morning after encounter with my latest seducer - and I wasn't entirely sure I would be able to resist if he offered one more fuck 'for the road'.

As my hand reached for the bedroom door, a feeling of dread washed over me. I had squealed and wailed throughout the night, calling out with every penetration; every insemination; every climax however small or large - and there had been many.

Darren shared the house with two other young men. If they had been home there was no conceivable way they would not have heard. One was another trainer at the gym who I knew by sight if not by name.

A cold fear passed through me along with horrible memories from my youth. Was I about to take the 'walk of shame' through Darren's shared house? To leave with his friends watching his latest conquest sneaking away, knowing she was married and old enough to be his mother?

Was I about to acquire a similar nickname to my daughter who was now known at University as 'Izzy-Oh-God' following her orgasmic exclamations?

Could I escape without being seen or recognised? And if I did, would Darren kiss-and-tell anyway?

There was no choice; the longer I waited, the more likely I was to be spotted. I had to take the risk. Tiptoeing to the door I turned the handle then, taking one last look at my beautiful sleeping fuck-buddy, I opened the door and slipped into the corridor outside.

I could hear a radio playing in a nearby bedroom. The door was closed so I tiptoed past and begin to descend the stairs in my bare feet. When I reached the tiny hallway, I could hear the familiar sounds of the BBC news coming from the kitchen. Someone must be preparing breakfast, I thought. They would be occupied; if I took another few steps perhaps I could open the front door and make my escape unseen.

I took another quick look into the room but could see no-one. I slipped my shoes on, walked silently to the front door, turned the handle and pulled.

It didn't open. I turned the handle the other way and pulled. That didn't work either.

"You need the key to open it," came a voice from behind me.

I span round to find a tall young man standing in the kitchen doorway. He was perhaps a few years younger than Darren, bare-chested, bare footed and wearing jeans.

"Oh... um... " I stammered.

There was no possible way he could fail to understand my presence in his house. I began to panic.

"I've... I've got to get to work," I began.

"No problem," he smiled knowingly, reaching past me and putting a key in the lock. He turned it, there was a click and the door opened a crack.

"Do you need a lift? I could drop you off," he offered cheerfully. "I'm Will by the way."

The thought of being in a confined space with one young man when my body must have reeked of all the sex I had just had with another was too much.

"My car's round the corner," I lied. "But thanks anyway, Will."

"Anytime," he replied, watching me with a broad smile as I finally escaped into the fresh air.

Once out of the house I walked down the driveway as calmly as I could, my knees trembling with nerves. When I reached the road I turned right then as soon as I was out of sight of the house I stopped and took a deep breath. Had I really got away with it? It was too early to tell.

I was shaking like a leaf as I walked quickly along to the corner. There to my relief I found a bus stop with a Number Nine approaching.

***

For the first time in fifteen years I was late for work that morning. The bus journey to back to Julie's to collect my car followed by the drive home had taken much longer than I had expected. I dashed upstairs and into the shower to wash the sticky evidence of fornication from my body only to find as I dried myself in front of the mirror that Darren had given me three large hickeys, two on the base of my neck, one higher up.

I was horrified! Darren's housemate Will couldn't possibly have missed them.

The first two could be hidden by a judicious choice of top but, short of wearing a headscarf, the third would be clearly visible to anyone who saw me. I cursed Darren for marking me as if we had been at a teenage disco and then cursed myself for being stupid enough to let it happen. At my age I should have known better.

I used more concealer that morning than I had since my spotty teenage days, thanking God that although it was large, the hickey wasn't too dark in colour. The bags under my eyes needed attention too so I was well behind time as I drove through the thick traffic and struggled to find a parking place.

It was well past nine when I finally arrived at my desk to find I was already late for my first meeting but as I apologised and took my place at the table, settled into my seat and felt the aches and soreness my night's adventure had produced, a warm glow of satisfied feminine contentment passed through me.

When I thought of the reason for my unusual tardiness, felt the warm glow in my belly and wondered what my colleagues would think if they knew I had just rushed in from my first one night stand in thirty years, I couldn't prevent a broad smile appearing on my fifty-one year old face.

The warm glow continued throughout the day and into the evening, returning with a vengeance as I sat at my dressing table, removing my make-up and looking with a perverse pride at the three hickeys on my neck as if they were trophies.

Knowing I had been free to do this crazy thing; that my absent husband could and would voice no objection to what I had done made all the difference.

To my amazement, the continued risk of discovery and exposure by Darren's housemates served only to heighten the thrill that rippled through me.

In love or not, none of my encounters with Tony had made me fill like this.

An extraordinary thought struck me; was this what my husband had wanted all along?